I'm Caramella Mou and this is my cook book. It contains mostly recipes passed down from my Mum or invented by myself. Sometimes I cook from cook books and if I find a recipe really good, I blog about that too.

19 June 2012

We went to Sweden for my birthday and I thought I'd try my hand at my newly acquired chocolate tempering skills.

My Sister Bip is obsessed with New York at the moment, so I thought I'd make the New York Cheese Cake, I had such great success with a couple of weeks back. Though she declared that cheese cakes are not for her, I decided to go ahead anyway and not tell her, because I suspected that she had the same opinion as me - I also don't like "regular" cheese cakes, that aren't cooked, but the New York ones are something completely different.

My Mum remembering well that Lundulph disapproves of cheese in general, had stocked up with mascarpone, so I used this instead of Philadelphia.

The Swedish digestive biscuits were also a bit different - they were smaller and had a different colour.

I was careful not to over-do the butter like last time and I used walnuts instead of hazel nuts.

Of course the oven was different. I definitely left it in the oven to cool for way too long.

I don't know, but it didn't turn out as good as the first time. As I made the cream mixture, it was way too runny. After baking, the texture was completely different, drier and grainier. And the biscuit base went soggy very quickly.

But at least very little of the butter oozed out. Also, walnuts were OK in the biscuit mixture, but toasted hazel nuts are much better.

The topping was different though, instead of lemon, I added mango purée. And not just any, but the stuff made for babies (link in Swedish). I added the whole jar, 125 g and it tasted nice and showed colour. This was a suggestion from Mum and a very good one, so definitely a keeper for alternative topping. The main cheese cake was lemon flavoured though. I suspect peach or passion fruit would work as well.

Also, Mum only had white chocolate. I should have taken the trouble to get milk chocolate, which was what we used in the course and what is supposedly the easiest thing to do. So I struggled with the white chocolate, to say the least.

I think it did temper a little, I'm not sure, it behaved differently and after some web research, it seems that white chocolate is the trickiest to do. I should have thought of it - after all, white chocolate is mostly cocoa fat, sugar and milk solids. Still, I managed to make a rosette and I also had a play with some new sprinkles my Mum had handy.

On the whole it was OK. But I definitely need to spend some time practicing tempering chocolate...

A couple of weeks ago, I was at a dead end, cooking-wise. No inspiration, no ideas, nothing.

So I dug out my old "things to cook in 20xx" lists and looked through them, to see if there was anything there that might loosen the blockage.

Of course I could have opted for the Ye Olde Recipe Collection, but that would have meant having to go out and buy ingredients and I have become a bit house bound of late as well. The rain has of course contributed to this.

So, frittata was on the cards. Sadly, I had only listed it, without any accompanying research and appropriate recipe links. So I googled the term and looked up the 3 - 4 links that came up on top. Pretty pictures, I must say, very mouth-watering. But once I started reading, I began to realise that it is not as simple as I had thought.

I opted to pick out bits and bobs from different recipes and of course this massively affected the end result. Besides, I wanted to use some of that smoked paprika I bought some time ago.

I already had some boiled potatoes, so I just sliced them. Probably about 300 g.I then fished out the last onion that was hiding at the back of the veg drawer in the fridge (what was it doing there?!?) and sliced it in what I thought would look pretty.

I then heated up a little oil and put the onion in to soften a bit.

In the mean time, I whisked together 5 eggs + a left-over egg white with a little salt, pepper, smoked paprika and chopped parsley.

I then tried to stir in the potato slices without breaking them up too much and when the onions were ready, I did the same with them without much success.

So I put the pan back on the hob and poured out the whole lot. As expected the potatoes and onions were too big and sort of stuck up from the pan, while the egg kept to the very bottom of it.

I tried to fold up the edges over the middle to give it a nicer shape, but that didn't work either, instead the omelette just broke up, so I gave up and stirred around to make sure everything raw got cooked and everything cold got warmed through.

Not appetising one bit. So to be on the safe side, I fried up some good old Swedish meatballs and sliced some roast pepper for garnish.

This would have worked a treat, if I hadn't been overly careful with the seasoning of my "frittata".

I don't know what's gotten into me, but I seem less able than normal to add a sufficient amount of salt in my food lately. I've always been careful with that, but what I'm doing now is ridiculous.

I'm not sure I will want to try this out again, at least not any time soon, even if I like frittata.

9 June 2012

This year, Lundulph and I joined my Mum and Dad in Bulgaria over the Easter holidays, which I thought was very exciting.

We also rented a car and did a few day trips to a couple of other Bulgarian towns to see the historic Old Town Centres.

In one of these towns we found a really nice old fashioned coffee house at the end of the main street and decided to stop by and rest our feet over a coup of Turkish coffee "on sand". Turkish coffee is made in a special pot with very finely ground coffee. Together with water it is brought to the boil and removed from the heat several times so that foam builds up on the surface. The "on sand" part was that there was a tray filled with sand over a heating element. The special coffee pots were each only large enough for one coffee and were placed in the sand to boil. From what I could see, the sand thing was for show mainly. Regular cooker hobs work just as well.

Along with the Turkish coffee, we each also ordered a tall glass of water with a spoon of бяло сладко (byalo sladko). This translates to "white sweet" or "white preserve" and is basically pouring fondant. You sip the coffee, lick the fondant and drink the water in turns.

It was all very tasty. The coffee itself was far too small, so both my Mum and I had to order a second one.

The coffee house also sported a small corner with traditional sweets. Obviously having been part of the Ottoman Empire for some 5 centuries, Bulgaria has picked up extensive parts of Turkish cuisine and especially the tradition of fabulous desserts and super sweet bites. Without thinking much about it, I bought one of each thing they had, some of which I'd never seen before, but which made my Mum's eyes sparkle a bit.

Now that we are back home, Lundulph and I have been carefully working our way through these treasures.

The first things we had were the bright red caramel lollies in the shape of cockerels. I have fond memories of these as a child, these were a little disappointing as they had very sharp edges and I'm sure I cut my lips on mine. I think they were more child-friendly when I was little. Lundulph crunched through his very quickly, mumbling something about toffee apples.

I also sneakily had the sugar daisy a couple of days later. I thought it would have been flavoured with something, but it wasn't. It was very easy to chew, so I think it was made from some sort of sugar icing that had been allowed to dry out. I do have some vague memories of daisies and violets of this type of lolly.

Next we tried the нуга халва (nuga halwa), which is better known as French nougat. The one I bought was modernised with cocoa and wasn't as sweet and chewy as I expected. But it was very nice indeed and very close to my own past attempts at French Nougat. I'd always thought I'd failed, but perhaps I wasn't so far off after all.

The most mysterious thing in my goodie bag was балсуджук, pronounced balsujuk and I'm not entirely sure how to translate. Basically it is walnut halves threaded on a string, then dipped repeatedly in thickened grape must. This is a method normally used to make candles, so I was quite curious about this based on this fact alone. Very much like in the case of dipping a wick into melted wax and letting it cool and dipping again and thus gradually creating a candle, with the балсуджук, you have a string with fresh walnut halves, which are repeatedly dipped into sweetened and thickened grape must and allowed to cool and set between each dip. Eventually the walnuts are completely hidden inside and the ready thing looks a little like a knobbly sausage. Taste-wise it was disappointing, it was very bland and Lundulph didn't like the overall texture either. I don't know what grape must tastes like, but I expected it to taste of grapes at the very least. I have a feeling this балсуджук was a cheat and that grape juice mixed with water and gelatine had been used to create it. Still, the method of making is massively intriguing and I will try to get hold of some real grape must and see if I can do better.

The next thing was supposed to be the "карамел халва" (caramel halwa) which I suspect was something from Western Europe, not something traditional. It looked like a bar of toffee sprinkled with chopped nuts. Sadly, as I opened it, I noticed that the nuts had gone mouldy, despite a best before date of early October this year. So this thing had to go straight into the bin, a great shame, I was quite looking forward to it.

Of course, having decided to have something sweet to finish off our dinner, we needed a replacement and went for the last thing in the bag - локум с орехи (Turkish delight with walnuts). This one we could be fairly sure was not mouldy for the simple reason that it was well dusted with corn flour, so no moisture where the mould could sprout. It was also very very soft and hard to cut, but was very tasty indeed, not too sweet at all. Also on my to make list.

The one thing I wasn't able to get in the shop was пестил. Again something I had not come across before, but when I looked it up, it turns out I had read about it. This is in fact what is called fruit leather, though traditionally the Bulgarian пестил is made from plums, but other fruit works as well. Basically a fruit purée is made from chopped fruits and a little water. Sugar, lemon juice and spices are added to taste and the whole thing is blended smooth, then poured onto a shallow baking tray lined with cling film and this is then dried out on low heat in an oven until it resembles leather. By chance it is on one of my to try out lists and I will do so, as soon as I get a new cooker - I can't get low enough temperatures with my gas cooker, but an electric one can be set as low as 30 degrees C.

So on the whole interesting, though I had set my expectations a bit too high.